


Occasions

by Frenchibi



Series: Iwaizumi Week 2016 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, Confessions, Day 2, Fluff, Getting Together, Iwaizumi Week 2016, M/M, Prompt: Food, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:50:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tooru shrugs, but he doesn’t meet his eye. “Can’t a guy be nice without getting called out for it?”<br/>Hajime stares at his profile a little longer, assessing, but then he shrugs, too. Tooru is weird. It’s not the most far-off thing to think he’s just being nice for a change.<br/>“Fair enough,” he says, and picks up his fork to try the cake. It looks complicated, with several layers of dark dough and light cream, separated by what looks like jam. It’s not especially neat, but it’s still above what Hajime expected Tooru to be capable of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occasions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Iwaizumi Week, Day 2: ~~Training camp~~ | **Food** | ~~Smiles~~
> 
> ...I don't know what happened, this escalated into completely ridiculous, over-the-top, self-indulgent fluff and I'm not sorry

Tooru is sprawled across the couch, looking decadent as ever (but also unfairly sophisticated at the same time, that bastard) when Hajime comes home. He drops his bag in the hall - he couldn’t care less after a long and incredibly exhausting day - and Tooru raises his eyebrows at him when he slouches into the living room.

“Welcome home,” he says, but he seems to swallow his witty comment when he sees Hajime’s face. Instead he tilts his head a little to the side and says: “…are you okay?”

Hajime makes a non-committal noise and rubs his hands over his eyes. “Tough day,” he mumbles, then eyes Tooru’s legs where they’re splayed across the cushions.

Tooru follows his gaze and pulls them back, making room for him. Hajime is surprised he doesn’t have to ask, but Tooru’s expression is a thin layer of careful neutrality over an underlying concern. He can see right through him. Apparently years of experience do teach you some things about a person.

“God, I could sleep for a week,” Hajime says quietly. Then he jerks his chin in the direction of the television set. It looks like there's some sort of documentary on, but the volume is down so low he can barely hear it at all. “What’re we watching?”

Tooru shrugs. “I wasn’t really paying attention. D’you want some tea?”

And he’s already getting to his feet.

“Uhm. Yeah, actually, that’d be great. But you don’t have to, I can-”

“Shush. You sit.”

And Tooru is out of the room before Hajime can protest, and he realizes he’s too tired to actually get up and get his own cup of tea. It’s not that unusual for Tooru to offer, either, but usually he’d do that when he’s on his way to get something for himself anyway. Hajime eyes the cup on the couch table, which is still steaming. Huh.

If Tooru takes longer than usual, Hajime doesn’t notice, because he’s too busy sinking into the cushions and finally feeling his tense muscles relax a little. He closes his eyes and almost drifts off, but then he feels something warm being dropped into his lap.

“Have a blanket, idiot,” Tooru says as he comes around the sofa, balancing a mug and a plate in one hand and holding another ridiculously soft blanket in the other.

Hajime looks down, recognizing the dumb alien print immediately - Tooru’s had this for years, and it’s a little worn, but he kept it because it’s his favorite.

“You hungry? You missed dinner, but I kept you some.”

Hajime manages a stunned little nod, and Tooru lowers the plate into his lap. Hajime looks down at it, then back up at Tooru. “You had cake for dinner…?”

Tooru chuckles a little. “Just… there was a recipe I wanted to try, okay? It’s fresh. Tell me what you think.”

He puts down the mug on the table next to his own before sitting down again, wrapping the blanket he’s carrying around his shoulders as he does so. Hajime watches him adjust his position, a small frown creasing his brow.

“…thank you,” he says slowly.

“Hm?” Tooru looks up and smiles. “Sure thing, Iwa-chan!”

“…just… what’s the occasion? Did you break something again?”

Tooru does his best to look honestly offended. “Seriously, Iwa-chan. Do I need a reason to be nice to you? You had a rough day!”

Hajime purses his lips. “Well, yeah, but… you don’t usually… you know.”

Tooru shrugs, but he doesn’t meet his eye. “Can’t a guy be nice without getting called out for it?”

Hajime stares at his profile a little longer, assessing, but then he shrugs, too. Tooru is weird. It’s not the most far-off thing to think he’s just being nice for a change.

“Fair enough,” he says, and picks up his fork to try the cake. It looks complicated, with several layers of dark dough and light cream, separated by what looks like jam. It’s not especially neat, but it’s still above what Hajime expected Tooru to be capable of.

“How long did this take you?” he asks, fork suspended over the plate.

“Oh, couple hours,” Tooru says off-handedly. “Like I said, just experimenting. It’s Suga-chan’s recipe and he wanted testers. Although I’m not sure I’ve done it justice, it looked much better when he made it.”

Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side a little as he stares down at the cake. “Well, it looks pretty good. I’m impressed, well done.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Don’t praise me like I’m a grade-schooler, Iwa-chan, just try it already.”

Hajime notices that Tooru has his hands folded in his lap and is fidgeting slightly. He knows Tooru is trying to make this seem like it’s not a big deal, but somehow Hajime thinks it is.

He breaks off a piece and brings the fork to his mouth, aware that Tooru is watching him.

“What, you gonna poison me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I’m wounded! That’s how little you trust me?” Tooru puts on his best scandalized face, and Hajime snorts.

“Nah. You couldn’t survive without me, Shittykawa. You wouldn’t kill me, it’d be way too troublesome for you,” he says and pushes the fork into his mouth.

Tooru swallows his retort in favor of watching him outright now, waiting for him to speak. Hajime’s eyes widen a little.

“Oh,” he says, looking down at the cake on his plate.

“What do you think?” Tooru asks, looking almost worried.

“This is… amazing, Oikawa. Seriously. It tastes great. And this is the first time you made this?”

Tooru shrugs a little. “Well, I had help from Suga-chan, obviously - I may have called him and panicked a little at some point, but… yeah. The kitchen was a mess - don’t worry though, I cleaned it up,” he adds hastily.

“Consider me thoroughly impressed,” Hajime says, and he means it. “You never cease to surprise me.”

For a second he almost regrets saying that, but Tooru’s expression makes it worth it. He half-expects him to make a joke of it, _of course not, Iwa-chan, I’m a wonder of nature_ or something, but he doesn’t. He just grins an honest, happy little grin and says “I’m glad you like it.”

Hajime’s heart rate accelerates a little, and already his exhaustion is fading away. Tooru always has this effect on him, and his smile is infectious, spreading warmth through his body.

They sit in silence for a while as Hajime eats the cake, just content to be together - at least Hajime is, and from what he can tell, Tooru seems to feel the same way. He cradles his mug of tea in his lap, occasionally taking a sip as he alternates between watching the screen and shooting glances at Hajime.

Hajime finishes the rest of the cake and sets the plate aside, reaching for his own mug. He shifts a little, leaning into Tooru’s side as he settles back down, and before he can think too much about it, he rests his head on the setter’s shoulder.

Tooru tenses a little in surprise, but then his shoulders relax and he huffs out a little laugh. He doesn’t comment, though, and lets Hajime lean against him. The ace sighs softly, reaching up to rub at his eyes with one hand while the other clutches his mug.

“Tired?” Tooru asks, his voice somehow softer than usual.

“Mmh.”

“You don’t need to stay up - just finish your tea and we’ll go to bed, okay?”

Hajime pretends hearing Tooru say “we” doesn’t make his stomach jolt a little and nods. “Okay.”

It’s not until they’re lying in bed much later, with Tooru curled up against him as usual - it's so routine for them by now, he sometimes wonders why they even got a second bed - that Hajime realizes it’s Valentine’s Day.

~~~

He corners Suga after lunch when he spots him in the cafeteria (and after checking that Tooru is definitely not around), and the silver-haired setter looks a little too smug for Hajime’s liking when he hears his request, but he smiles nonetheless and promises to help him.

The first try is disastrous, and Hajime is glad he didn’t wait until the last minute to do this, because he knows he’ll want it to be perfect, and to get it perfect he’ll need several attempts.

The second try looks okay but tastes terrible, and on his third attempt he nearly sets the kitchen on fire (much to Suga’s amusement). By the fourth try he’s frustrated, but also determined to get it right. He knows he’s bad at baking in the first place, but… if there’s any chance that there was meaning behind Tooru giving him chocolate cake on Valentine’s Day - homemade chocolate cake, no less - he wants to answer appropriately, and White Day is coming up fast.

He lets Suga taste the fourth batch and make some suggestions before he starts making a fifth, and by that point he’s pretty confident (and also pretty sure that Tooru will be very confused if he’s been paying attention to the amount of flour, eggs, sugar and butter that Hajime keeps buying. Hajime guesses it’s a good thing that Tooru is having busy weeks lately).

Suga seems kind of impressed - which might just be because what Hajime has made is actually edible this time, but Hajime lets it slide - and gives him the ok for the fifth batch just in time. So Hajime goes ahead with his plan, skips his last class on the 14th and buys the ingredients for a fifth time (he swears the cashier at their local store gives him a weird look), and is just taking the first tray out of the oven when he hears the front door open.

"I'm home," Tooru calls, and Hajime answers with a short "In the kitchen!" and hopes Tooru can't hear the little tremble in his voice.

He sets the tray down and turns just in time to see Tooru come around the corner.

“…you’re baking?” he asks, sliding into the kitchen behind him.

Hajime nods. “Got an urge, I guess. Wanna try some?”

Tooru raises his eyebrows a little. “I seem to recall you’re… bad at baking. No offense, Iwa-chan, but…”

“Shut up. You can tell me I’m terrible at it once you’ve tried a cookie, dumbass, not beforehand.”

“But I want to live-”

“Oh, don’t be such a dick, Oikawa. They’re not that bad.”

Tooru gives him a stupid grin, but he takes one of the cookies off the tray nonetheless.

“What made you suddenly want to bake?” he asks, holding the cookie up to his nose before tentatively taking a bite.

“Oh, I dunno. Ran into Suga and I remembered your cake, and I just…” Hajime shrugs, trying to sound as casual as possible, and not like he’s been practicing for the last two weeks.

At the mention of the cake, Tooru’s eyes widen - and Hajime swears he sees them dart to the calendar hanging in the doorway.

“…so what do you think? Edible?”

Tooru blinks, turning his attention back to Hajime fully. “They’re… good,” he says slowly.

“Don’t sound so surprised. I wasn’t THAT bad at-”

“You were, though,” Tooru says seriously. “It’s weird. You shouldn’t… be this good at this. Even with Suga-chan’s help, you’d have to work some kind of miracle to-”

“Oh, alright, I practiced,” Hajime interrupts, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. “Give it a rest, Shittykawa.”

Tooru doesn’t though, of course. Instead his frown deepens, and his eyes are unreadable.

“You… practiced? What’s… what’s the occasion?”

Hajime doesn’t know how to answer that, so he just shrugs and turns his back to Tooru, busying himself at the oven. Tooru doesn’t take the hint, (of course), and steps up closer.

“Hajime?” Tooru asks quietly.

He’s not sure what it is - the fact that he used his first name, or that tone of voice, or that he can feel Tooru’s fingers tug at the hem of his shirt - but he realizes this might be a turning point, and he hasn’t really thought it through. He panics a little, dropping the dish towel he just picked up.

“Uh.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, but Tooru won’t let go of his shirt, and he only seems to be moving closer, because Hajime can feel his breath on his neck.

“I just… liked your cake, and I figured… you know, it can’t be that hard to make a little something to say thank you-”

Tooru sighs behind him, soft and barely noticeable, but Hajime hears it nonetheless.

“…today’s the 14th,” he says quietly.

“I know,” Hajime says.

The grip of Tooru’s fingers on the hem of his shirt tightens. “I… made you that cake on…”

He doesn’t want to say it, but it slips out. “…Valentine’s Day. Yeah.”

Tooru tenses, and Hajime can feel it because they’re so close together now, barely inches between them. And then, suddenly, Tooru snakes his arms around him and squeezes, resting his head on Hajime’s shoulder.

“…you gotta tell me to stop,” Tooru whispers, “or I won’t be- I can’t stop unless you tell me you don’t want this.”

Hajime hesitates, and Tooru is already starting to pull his hands away again when he reaches up to catch them, to keep them where they are.

Tooru gasps a little in surprise, and Hajime seizes the opportunity to twist around to face him, Tooru’s arms still circling his hips loosely. He’s staring at Hajime, looking startled and… blushing?

Hajime just lets himself stare for a moment, at that face that he’s known for decades, getting lost in Tooru’s eyes like he’s always wanted to, letting his gaze linger on the curve of his nose, on those lips that always look like they’re on the verge of a smirk, on the soft curls of his hair that frame his face.

And suddenly, it doesn’t seem that scary anymore.

“…you baked a chocolate cake on Valentine’s Day,” he says.

Tooru nods, because it’s just the truth. “…and you’re making cookies on White Day,” he adds.

“I am,” Hajime says.

They stare at each other for a second, and Hajime sees Tooru’s gaze flick down to his mouth. They’re both frozen, and it feels like an eternity where nothing happens.

And then, impossibly, Tooru closes the distance and before Hajime has time to think, he feels the softness of a pair of lips against his own.

It’s over in a second, and Tooru is pulling away from him, looking shocked. Hajime blinks, then stumbles back a little, until he slumps against the counter behind him.

“…you didn’t stop me,” Tooru says. His voice is tiny and laced with disbelief. “I thought… I thought for sure you’d stop me.”

He’s shaking his head, staring at Hajime like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Why didn’t you? You never… you never seemed interested at all, so I just… I gave up without even trying because there was no way you’d… This makes no sense. Why didn’t you stop me? You were supposed to finally end this, I don’t- I-I…”

“What… what do you mean, finally end this?” Hajime asks, and his voice feels flat, numb.

“…are you kidding? I’ve… I’ve been in love with you for years,” Tooru says.

There’s thunder roaring in Hajime’s ears, and everything else is gone.

“…what?”

Tooru looks at him like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You… you didn’t know? I thought everyone knew! And you never reacted to anything I did, so obviously you didn’t feel the same but you didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so you pretended not to notice-”

“Whoa, whoa, wait. I… you what?”

Now it’s Tooru’s turn to take a step back, and he nearly trips over the towel Hajime dropped earlier.

“…you’re kidding, right? You… you really didn’t know?”

“How long?” Hajime manages, and he’s pretty sure he’s shaking, because this, all of this, is way too surreal. There's no way-

But Tooru just stares.

“…I’ve loved you since Middle School,” he says finally. “I even… I even confessed to you back then.”

Hajime’s eyes go wide because he remembers that. He remembers his heart skipping straight out of his chest when Tooru mumbled those words, and he remembers every excruciating detail - how Tooru’s fingers had dug into his shirt, how he couldn’t quite meet his eye, how he’d blushed a little.

He remembers, because it was one tiny little moment that felt like a victory, a triumph. And then reality had come crashing down because there was no way Tooru meant it like that. Hajime had to be sure, though, because if Tooru did-

“…but… I asked you then, how you meant it! And you said-”

“I said ‘of course I love you, you’re my best friend, Iwa-chan’. Because you looked so worried, so scared, and I couldn’t risk losing you!”

Hajime runs his hands over his face and through his hair, ignoring the fact that they’re still full of flour. That’s the last thing on his mind right now. He exhales in a shuddering breath and draws in another shaking one, never taking his eyes off Tooru, who’s standing right there in their shared kitchen but who’s never looked so lost in his life.

“So all this time, you… you were in love with me?”

Tooru’s hands clench into fists at his side. “…I thought you knew,” he says.

Hajime’s eyes are still trained on Tooru, but suddenly they lose focus. He stares into nothing, his brain working frantically. All this time-

“I wish I’d known,” he says slowly, and his gaze pins down on Tooru again. “I wish I’d… everything would’ve been so much easier if I’d known.”

He groans, reaching up to run his hand over his face again. “God, Oikawa, we’re so stupid.”

Tooru stares right back at him, confused and slightly irritated.

“What do you-”

“Me, too. I was… I’ve…” Hajime takes a deep breath, trying to sort out his thoughts, but there’s really only one thing that’s important right now. “All this time, and you… I could have just…”

He huffs out a frustrated half-laugh and takes a step closer to Tooru, because he hates the distance between them, he’s always hated it, always waited for Tooru to move in and close it because Hajime would never stop him, not for anything, he’d always give him everything because-

“I spent all this time, waiting, hoping, because I was sure you’d never… God, and I thought when you said you loved me you meant ‘as a friend’, and I just… that hurt so fucking much, because we got so, so close, and I just…”

He stops again, searching, searching, reaching for Tooru’s hand, who looks like he wants to run away as Hajime gets closer, and he should never, ever look at him like that, because-

“And then chocolate cake on Valentine’s Day, and… shit, Tooru. I was sure you were screwing me over. I was so sure this was a joke, or just your usual ‘we’re best friends’ thing, like hogging the couch and lying on top of me and wearing my clothes and sleeping in my bed, and- who does that? Seriously! But I could never say no to you, not ever, not… not even if I wanted to.”

They’re so close now that Hajime can see himself reflected in Tooru’s eyes. Those fucking eyes. He manages a small sigh, even as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and bites it in frustration.

“…why?” Tooru whispers, toneless and not daring to hope.

And it’s sink or swim, all or nothing. Yes or no.

He makes his choice.

“Because I fucking love you. Always have. Always.”

And it’s out, he’s said it, and he’s holding his breath.

“Wh…”

Tooru opens his mouth, then closes it again. And he stares. And stares.

There’s a second where nothing happens, they’re inches apart and Tooru’s eyes search Hajime’s face. Hajime’s fingers brush Tooru’s.

“Hajime,” Tooru croaks, and his voice tilts and breaks, and their fingers slide together. Tooru grips Hajime’s hand, pulling him closer ever so slightly.

“I love you,” Hajime says again, and he smiles, and Tooru stares, and he stares-

And he’s sobbing, tears streaming down his face as he fights to catch his breath, and Hajime can feel his own eyes filling up as he manages a strained chuckle.

“Really? You’re gonna cry?”

Tooru covers his face with his free hand, but the other squeezes Hajime’s fingers so hard it hurts.

“Oh, come here,” Hajime says, just as he knows he’s started crying, too. “Come here, you big idiot. Here.”

And Tooru drops forward into Hajime’s waiting arms, buries his head in his chest and everything, everything falls into place.

Tooru is blubbering into his shirt, an incoherent mess of “Iwa-chan,” and “Oh, God, this is real, you really… you really…” and “I love you so much,” and “Iwa-chan” and “Hajime” and “Iwa-chan” and a bunch of words Hajime doesn’t quite catch, but it doesn’t matter because they’re finally, finally on the same page.

Hajime buries his face in Tooru’s hair, pressing kisses to his head even as he feels his own tears slowly ebbing away. And he starts whispering back, soft words to make sure Tooru knows that he’s real, he’s here and he’s not joking: “Shh, I’m right here,” and “I've got you,” and “Tooru,” until Tooru’s shoulders stop shaking and his arms relax their grip around Hajime’s torso. Until his sobs fade into heavy breathing, and he slowly calms down enough to pull back and meet his gaze, eyes red and face blotchy, and his nose dripping with snot.

A weak sort of laugh bubbles up out of Hajime’s mouth, and he reaches behind him to the drawer they keep tissues in. He fumbles with a packet for a second, then reaches over to wipe Tooru’s face. At this point, Tooru is chuckling too.

“Go on, tell me I’m an ugly crier,” he says, but Hajime just shakes his head.

“No dice. I’m not complaining.”

Tooru takes the tissue from his hand and wipes away the rest of the mess on his face before blowing his nose, making Hajime frown at him. He shoves the tissue in his pocket then, and turns his attention back to the man whose arms are still wrapped around him.

“…you love me,” he says quietly, when he finally looks back at him.

Hajime shrugs a little, and Tooru punches his arm. “Be serious!”

And Hajime smiles, even as he rolls his eyes at him. “Yeah, Shittykawa.”

Tooru watches him, eyes wide in wonder and shining with happiness. He smiles, and it’s real, unfiltered, honest. Hajime’s chest tightens at the sight.

“You love me,” he says again. Relieved, incredulous, and so, so happy. “You _love_ me.”

Hajime snorts - he doesn’t mean to, and Tooru blinks, startled. But then Hajime laughs. “You’re a sap,” he accuses. Tooru tries his best to look scandalized, but his grin is too big to hide.

“My... my Iwa-chan loves me,” he says slowly, and Hajime isn’t prepared for what that does to his heart. He bites his lip, tensing up a little, and Tooru watches him, apprehensive again. But it’s true, Hajime reasons. There’s no point in being embarrassed about it now.

“…so much,” he says quietly. “So much, Tooru. You have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~what is correct spacing between paragraphs anyway~~  
>  And yeah I know it's not Valentine's Day but... idk? The prompt was **food** and this is all I've got. Sorry, not sorry xD  
>  Please come and scream at me in the comments or on my tumblr :D


End file.
